


More Than Just A Friend

by panicked_introvert



Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz, Be More Chill - Ned Vizinni
Genre: Angst and Feels, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Bisexual Male Character, Depression, F/M, Gay, Gay Male Character, I'm Bad At Tagging, Jealousy, M/M, Mental Breakdown, My First Fanfic, One-Sided Attraction, POV Third Person Omniscient, Pining, Post-Squip, Realistic, Romance, Self-Harm, Suicidal Thoughts, The Squip is a bitch
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-03
Updated: 2018-04-10
Packaged: 2019-03-26 13:12:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 12,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13858473
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/panicked_introvert/pseuds/panicked_introvert
Summary: After the Squip is destroyed, Michael and Jeremy can finally have a normal friendship again. However, Michael has begun to develop feelings for his friend. Afraid of ruining his friendship with Jeremy, he keeps his thoughts to himself. But when Jeremy discovers one of Michael's biggest secrets, and the Squip seems to have returned, the two become closer than either of them could have ever hoped for.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, friends! This is my first fanfiction on Ao3, and I'm super excited for all of you to read it! Feel free to tell me what you think and leave suggestions! Just a disclaimer: This story will contain self-harm and boyxboy content.

   "Michael! You've been in there for twenty minutes already! Are you okay?" Jeremy called from outside the bathroom door.

        "Jeremy, I'm fine! Just go wait for me, okay?" his friend replied from the other side of the door. "Seriously..."

        The brunette sighed, running his fingers through his hair. "Fine, fine. I'll be in the basement when you're all set, okay?"

        "Okay..." Michael waited until Jeremy's footsteps had completely faded before turning his attention to the eight new cuts on his arm, slowly letting the red liquid drip onto the floor. He'd done it. He had told himself again and again that he wouldn't do it while Jeremy was visiting. But here he sat on the edge of the tub, the silver razor blade lying on the floor in a small puddle of blood, seemingly mocking him for what he had done. Michael could feel a lump rising in his throat and tried to suppress it, but it was useless. With a little gasp, he covered his face with his red jacket, tears spilling from his eyes and dripping onto the worn fabric.

         _What is wrong with me? Why would you this while Jeremy was visiting?_  A voice in his head yelled.  _Are you stupid?_

        "I know I am," Michael choked out. "I know I'm an idiot." Michael had been self-harming for about six months, and suffered from anxiety, neither of which he had bothered to tell anybody about. He wasn't just doing it for attention, either- he had actual reasons to. To start, his siblings had all moved out, and his parents were acting like he didn't exist. Nearly every night, they went to go on some sort of date, leaving Michael to fend for himself. Also, things were pretty much terrible at school. His grades had been slipping from B's and C's to low D's and F's. There were also a group of boys who were tormenting him constantly. And to top it all off, he had a crush on a boy. And not just any boy- it was his best friend in the whole world, Jeremy Heere. Michael knew that Jeremy would never return his feelings- he was already dating someone, Christine. And as far as he knew, Jeremy was straight. If he confessed his feelings to his friend, it would most likely make things extremely awkward in terms of their friendship, and the two would end up drifting apart. Michael couldn't bear having that happen, especially not after the events with the Squip. So, he chose to keep his thoughts to himself, and prayed that Jeremy wouldn't find out what methods he had been using to suppress his feelings.

        Sniffing back his tears, Michael checked his arm. The slits looked like they had stopped bleeding, so he rolled down his sleeve and grabbed a roll of paper towels. After making sure he had cleaned every speck of blood off the floor, he grabbed the razor blade and brought it to his room, where he put it inside a tiny box in the back of his closet. He then took several deep breaths before forcing himself down the stairs and back into the basement. Jeremy was sitting on a red beanbag chair in front of the television, looking at his phone. When he heard Michael come down the stairs, he perked up. "Finally, you're back! We were gonna pick a movie to watch, right?"

        "Hmm? Oh, yeah." Michael grabbed the remote and started scrolling through Netflix as he sat in the blue beanbag next to Jeremy. "What kind of movie were you thinking of?"

        "How about a horror movie?" Jeremy asked. "We haven't watched one of those in a while."

        "Horror movie it is." Michael navigated to the horror section and was looking through the movies when Jeremy said, "Hey, Michael? Can I ask you something?"

        "Sure."

        "Well, this might sound a little strange, but..." Jeremy exhaled sharply through his nose, causing a piece of hair in front of his face to fly into the air. "You've been acting a little... weird lately."

        "Wh-what do you mean?" Michael asked, making sure his sleeves were going all the way over his arms.

        "I mean, like... you haven't been as talkative. Like, usually you're always going, 'Pac-man! Slushies! Weed!'" He waved his arms around for emphasis before settling back into the chair. "But you've just been kinda quiet. I just wanna know if something's wrong."

        "I don't know what you're talking about," Michael replied, keeping his eyes glued to the TV. He was worried that if he looked at Jeremy, he would break and spill everything. "I'm fine. Does  _Nightmare on Elm Street_  sound good?"

        "I guess..." Jeremy's brow wrinkled and he looked down at the floor. A split second later, he looked up. "Wait! Can we make some popcorn before we start the movie?"

        "Oh, sure." Michael went up the stairs, and Jeremy followed, his feet padding softly on the ground. When they got to the kitchen, Jeremy rooted around in the cabinets until he found a container of popcorn. He then attempted to clamber onto the counter to grab a bowl. Michael had been opening the container of popcorn, but he quickly put it down when he saw what Jeremy was doing. "Uh, Jeremy, I wouldn't do that..." But it was too late. Jeremy's knee slipped, and he fell backwards with a shriek. He would have fallen on the floor and hit his head if Michael hadn't rushed over, quickly grabbing him. "Jeez, Jeremy! Be more careful!"

        "Sorry!" At that moment, both of them realized the very awkward position they had ended up in- Michael had one hand on Jeremy's waist and the other on his back, while Jeremy had both arms wrapped around Michael's neck. The two quickly stepped apart, Michael's face turning the color of a ripe tomato. Jeremy noticed this very quickly. "Are you... blushing?"

        "No I'm not!" Michael replied. "It... it's just hot in here, that's all."

        "Well, take your jacket off if you're hot," Jeremy replied, gesturing towards the worn red jacket.

        "Um... no, I'd rather keep it on," Michael said. The truth was, it was so hot under the jacket that he thought he was suffocating. But he would rather be burned up like a microwave burrito than let Jeremy see what was under the jacket- crisscrossing patterns of red and white scars on his arms and shoulders, some of them faded to near nothingness, and some of them fresh, in various shades of red and pink. Making sure the jacket wasn't going to fall off his shoulders, he poured the popcorn into the bowl and put it in the microwave. Hitting the start button, he turned and leaned against the table, facing Jeremy. Normally, the two of them would be talking about God knows what. But instead, there was an awkward quiet, the silence being punctuated by the popping of kernels as the microwave heated them up. Michael looked at Jeremy, then down at the floor, then up at Jeremy. There was a strange look on the brunette's face that looked like a cross between fatigue and confusion that Michael decided not to question.

        After what seemed like an eternity, the silence was broken by the beep of the microwave. He quickly took the bowl out of the microwave, popping a piece of popcorn in his mouth. "Come on, Jeremy." He went back into the basement, Jeremy following. Michael sat down cross-legged on the blue beanbag chair, putting the popcorn bowl on the floor between the two chairs. Jeremy sat down as well, but he was starting to look less confused and more nervous. He was drumming his fingers on his thighs, and he was biting his bottom lip, his bright blue eyes darting back and forth across the room.

        "Jeremy?" Michael asked. But Jeremy didn't respond. In fact, he appeared to have not heard him at all. Michael raised an eyebrow, then tried again. "Um, Jeremy? You okay?" Once again, Jeremy didn't answer. The only noticeable difference was that Jeremy had began tapping his fingers on his legs at a greatly increased pace. 

        Michael opened his mouth to try again, then stopped. Jeremy was probably just worried- school started up again in two days, it was normal for kids to be stressed out around this time. Dismissing the incident, he picked up the remote and turned back to the TV. Before he could hit the play button, Jeremy let out a bloodcurdling scream, falling out of the chair and collapsing on the floor.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is also on Quotev, so I'm just putting in all the chapters I've already published right away so I can update the two stories at the same rate.

    A horrible pain jolted through Jeremy's head, sending spots dancing across his vision. He was vaguely aware of himself screaming in pain, but he couldn't hear himself- or anything else, for that matter. It felt as though someone had covered his ears and was shaking his head around. He collapsed onto the floor, grabbing his head with his hands and curling into a little ball, squeezing his eyes shut. A very faint buzzing was beginning to sound in his ears, and Jeremy desperately tried to tune it out. But the buzzing grew louder and louder, so loud that it seemed there was a swarm of hornets buzzing around inside his head. Through the buzzing, he could hear a very faint and somewhat familiar voice.

         _Hello, Jeremy._

        Jeremy's stomach sank. He knew why that voice was so familiar- it was the voice of something he'd thought he'd never have to deal with ever again. He shook his head in a futile attempt to clear his head of the voice.

         _You honestly thought you could get rid of me?_  The voice laughed.  _Please. I've always been here. I told you that I'd be back..._

        "No!" Jeremy could hear himself yelling. "Get out of my head!" The familiar voice laughed again.  _You know, Jeremy... I don't think I want to. I think I'm going to be staying here for a very, very long time._

With a loud shriek, Jeremy's eyes flew open. The voice and the buzzing noise faded away, and the pain in his head suddenly disappeared. His breath coming in short little gasps, he slowly became aware of his surroundings. He was lying face-down on the carpet in Michael's basement with his legs tucked up to his chest and his hands tangled in his hair. He stayed like that for about a minute, desperately trying to catch his breath and calm himself. When Jeremy finally convinced himself to sit up, Michael was staring at him with shock and confusion. The shorter boy blinked a couple of times before willing himself to speak. "Jeremy? A-are you okay?"

        Jeremy didn't respond at first, trying to ignore his shaky legs and the feeling in his stomach like he was going to throw up. Finally, he said, "The Squip is back."

        "Huh? What do you..."

        "He's back! It was talking to me!" Jeremy said.

        "What?" Michael exclaimed. "But-but I thought we got rid of it..."

        "That's what I thought too! But I'm serious, I heard him! I don't know how, but he survived..." Jeremy shook his head from side to side, causing little strands of hair to defy gravity and start floating above his head. "I just don't know..."

        "Jeremy, this isn't good! If he's really back..." Michael bit his bottom lip nervously, exhaling sharply through his nose. "Well... I guess the only thing we can do for now is make sure he doesn't come back for a while. We can use that time to figure out how to deal with... whatever is happening." He got up and walked over to the mini-fridge in the corner, pulling out a bottle of Mountain Dew Red. "Here." He tossed the bottle towards Jeremy, who caught it. "Try drinking that, just in case."

        Jeremy took the cap off the bottle and took three huge gulps of it. He put the bottle on the floor, screwing the cap back on. The feeling in his stomach had lessened a bit, but he still felt like shit. "It helped a little..."

        "Alright..." Michael seemed a little skeptical, but he didn't say anything. "Well, if it happens again, tell me, okay?" Jeremy nodded in reply. Clambering back up onto the chair, he took a piece of popcorn and popped it in his mouth, chewing it slowly as Michael sat down, pushing the two beanbag chairs together so that they functioned as a sort of couch. As the opening for the movie played, Jeremy crossed his legs and focused on the movie. However, out of the corner of his eye, he saw Michael looking at him with a strange expression. "What?"

        "Uh, there was just a piece of lint in your hair." Michael brushed an imaginary piece of lint out of Jeremy's hair, then quickly stuffed his hand into his pocket, praying that Jeremy wouldn't be able to see him blushing in the semidarkness. Jeremy turned back to the movie. He was too focused on what was happening on the screen to notice Michael slowly inching closer to him. Suddenly, Freddy Kruger popped up on the screen. Jeremy made a small shriek, jumping away from the screen. Michael laughed a bit. "Did you seriously just get scared by that?"

                "It's not funny!" Jeremy whined.

                "I'm sorry. But you have to admit, it was  _kinda_  funny," Michael said, still giggling a little bit.

                "No it wasn't!" Jeremy crossed his arms and stuck out his bottom lip in a pout that Michael found extremely adorable. "Aww, Jeremy, I'm sorry. Come on, talk to me." Jeremy shook his head, looking down at his lap. Michael groaned. "Come on, you can't stay mad at me. I know you can hear me..." Jeremy frowned, eyeballing Michael, but said nothing. Michael exhaled loudly. Then he scooted over and poked Jeremy's cheek with two fingers. "Boop." Jeremy nearly smiled but bit his bottom lip to prevent himself from doing so. Michael poked him again, and Jeremy suppressed another smile. Smirking, Michael began to poke Jeremy over and over, trying to get a reaction from him. Finally, Jeremy couldn't take it any more. He burst into laughter, swatting Michael's hand away. "Quit it!" 

                Michael chuckled. "Told you that you couldn't stay mad at me."

                "Shut up," Jeremy answered, but he was still laughing. Michael laughed a bit as well before turning back to the movie. However, the next moment, he felt a slight pressure on his shoulder. Looking over, he saw that Jeremy had leaned his head against his shoulder. Almost immediately, Michael stiffened up, unable to tear his eyes away from his crush. Jeremy breathed out sharply through his nose, and Michael stayed completely still, too scared to move. A split second later, Jeremy lifted his head, looking up at Michael. "Sorry... did you not want me to do that? You seemed uncomfortable..."

        "What? N-no! It's fine!" Michael stuttered. "I was just taken by surprise, that's all..." Jeremy slowly blinked up at him for what seemed like forever, his blue eyes standing out even in the slightly darkened room. Michael stared back at him, slightly blushing.  _You can look away any time you want, Jeremy..._  Finally, Jeremy shrugged. "Okay." He rested his head back on Michael's shoulder, and the red jacket-clad boy exhaled in relief. A couple of strands of Jeremy's overgrown curly hair were ticking his neck, and he tried not to giggle. He brushed the strands away before turning back to the movie, intentionally leaning back against Jeremy.

* * *

        "Jeremy?" Michael shook his friend an hour later when the movie ended. "Are you awake?" Jeremy was in fact not awake; he was far from it. His eyes were closed, and his head was bobbing limply on Michael's shoulder. Michael groaned. "Jeremy, if you're pretending to be asleep, then give it up. I know you're faking." Jeremy made a small moaning noise that Michael blushed at, but otherwise did nothing to respond. Michael stayed quiet, then slowly scooped his friend up bridal-style, scared of waking him up. The only response from Jeremy was a small grunting noise as he was picked up. Michael slowly carried the taller boy over to the air mattress behind the beanbags that had a jumbled mess of pillows and blankets dumped in the middle of it. He lowered the boy onto the mattress, removing his arms and waiting to see if Jeremy did anything, which he didn't.

        Once he was sure Jeremy wasn't going to suddenly pop up out of the bed and scare the crap out of him, Michael pulled a blanket over him, tucking it around him. He then stepped back and looked at the brunette. Jeremy had his legs tucked up slightly towards his chest, with one hand near his mouth in a limp fist. The shorter boy smiled as he admired how cute he looked. Slipping under the blankets, he put one protective arm over Jeremy, smiling as he looked at him. But his smile quickly faded.  _Quit it,_  he thought.  _He's never gonna feel the same way. You're obsessing over nothing. Just give up on him..._ Michael sighed, staring up at the ceiling and attempting to blink back tears. Finally, he closed his eyes, negative thoughts still whirling around in his head.


	3. Chapter 3

 Jeremy slowly awoke, squinting as the morning sun shone through the basement window and into his face. Still half-asleep, he realized that he had somehow ended up on the air mattress over the course of the night. He rolled over in confusion and saw Michael lying next to him, still asleep. The shorter boy was still wearing his regulation red sweatshirt, the hood over his head. He had nuzzled his face partially into the sweatshirt, and his glasses had fallen off his face during the night. Jeremy picked up Michael's glasses and gently slid them back onto his face so they wouldn't be crushed somehow. Michael didn't look like he was going to wake up any time soon, so Jeremy sat up and picked up his phone from off the floor. There were four new texts from Christine. Confused, Jeremy looked at them.

10:54 pm  **Christine <3: Goodnight Jer**

7:16 am  **Christine <3: You didn't say goodnight to me last night. :(**

7:30 am  **Christine <3: ** **Jeremy? Are you there?**

7:45 am  **Christine <3: Are you ignoring me?**

                Checking the time, Jeremy saw that it was currently 8:06. Panicking, he quickly sent her a text in reply.

8:06 am  **JeremyH: sorry! i must have fallen asleep.**

        A few minutes passed with no reply from Christine, so Jeremy put his phone back on the floor. He was getting a bit hungry, so decided to go upstairs and get some food. But first he had to change his clothes- he had slept in the same t-shirt and jeans he had fallen asleep in, and the clothes were sticking to his body. Cringing at the current condition of his clothes, Jeremy walked over to his duffel bag in the corner that had clothes spilling out of it and began to look around in it. He hadn't bothered to clean it out from the last time he had gone to Michael's house- he had just dumped some new clothes on top of the old clothes and hoped for the best. Therefore, it took him a while to find a clean outfit in the heap of partially clean clothing. He eventually settled on a pair of grey sweatpants and an oversized "I'm a happy go lucky ray of fucking sunshine" shirt. The shirt had been a gag gift from Michael a few months ago, and Jeremy just liked seeing the looks on people's faces when he wore it. 

        After putting the new clothing on, Jeremy went to pick up his phone before going upstairs. As he bent down to pick it up, he heard a small whine from Michael and a rustle of clothing. He looked up to see if Michael had woken up, but saw that he had just adjusted in his sleep so that he was lying on his back, with one arm flopped onto the pillow and the other under the blankets. Jeremy was about to go upstairs, but stopped mid-stride. Michael's sleeve had rode up a bit in his sleep, revealing a couple of strange marks on his arm. Confused, Jeremy got onto the air mattress, crawling over to get a better look at Michael's arm. As he got closer, he realized with a shock that they were cuts; seemingly dozens of cuts, each one in varying states of healing. Some of them looked especially fresh, which Jeremy realized must have been made within the last twenty four hours.  _That's why he was taking so long in the bathroom,_  Jeremy thought, horrified at the sight of his friend's mutilated arm. He moved his hand forwards to touch them, but paused, his hand hovering an inch over the halfway faded cuts.  _Don't... he might wake up._  Instead, he stayed still, unable to tear his eyes away from the cuts on Michael's arm.

        "Michael..." Jeremy whispered, even though he knew his friend couldn't hear him. "...why would you do this to yourself?" For what seemed like forever, he remained on the bed, not wanting to look another second but unable to get up and leave. Finally, he managed to convince himself to get off the bed and go upstairs. However, as he took a box of cereal out of the cabinet, he couldn't push the image of Michael's scars out of his mind. He had absolutely no idea why he would do something like that to himself. Apart from being slightly quieter, he hadn't shown any signs of being upset enough to do something like that. He had hid his emotions particularly well, which in this case wasn't a good thing. As Jeremy poured the cereal into a bowl, wild thoughts began to swarm around his brain.  _Why hadn't you paid more attention to him? You would have noticed he was upset. Then you would have been able to help him. It might not have gotten that bad if you did... Or maybe you upset him and he doesn't want to tell you what you did..._

 _No. Calm down,_  Jeremy reprimanded himself.  _This isn't your fault._ He realized that while he was thinking, he had been so distracted that he had caused the cereal to start spilling over the sides of the bowl. Quickly picking up the spilled Frosted Mini Wheats, he pushed his thoughts to the back of his mind, intent on talking to Michael when he woke up.

* * *

        Jeremy sat curled up on the couch, watching South Park. Why South Park was on at eight in the morning in the first place, he would never know. The incident with Michael had spoiled his appetite, however, and the cereal sat untouched on the floor next to him. He could barely pay attention to the show, his mind still focused on Michael. He tucked his legs up to his chest and wrapped his arms around them, his mind still in a whirl.  _Why would he do it, though? Why would he..._

        The basement door opened with a creak, and Michael walked into the living room, rubbing his eyes. He was currently wearing an oversized grey t-shirt and boxers, along with his standard red sweatshirt. "Morning, Jeremy," he yawned. "When did you get up?"

        "Sometime around eight," Jeremy replied.

                "Oh..." Michael sat down on the couch next to Jeremy. "So what did you feel like doing today?"

                "Actually, Michael, before we do anything, there's something I need to talk to you about." Jeremy turned to the shorter boy. "It's kind of important."

        "What is it?" Michael asked. Jeremy bit his lip, looking down at the ground. He had absolutely no idea how to tell Michael what he had seen.  _Maybe this isn't such a good idea. You should just keep it to yourself..._  "Never mind. I shouldn't have brought it up..."

        "What do you mean? What were you going to tell me?" Michael asked, confused. "You can't just tell someone you have something important to say and then not tell them."

        "Well... you're probably gonna be really angry with me if I bring it up," Jeremy replied. "It's kind of a sensitive topic."

        "A sensitive topic? Jeremy, what are you talking about? You're scaring me," Michael said, twisting the hem of his shirt in his fingers. "You know you can tell me anything you need to, Jeremy."

        "Okay..." Jeremy sighed. "It happened this morning. I woke up before you did, so I was just gonna go upstairs and have some food. When I was about to go upstairs, you rolled over in your sleep... your sleeve rolled up, and I saw..." Jeremy's voice trailed off when he saw Michael staring at him in shock. When he spoke, his voice was wavering like he was gonna start crying. "Oh my God... you know now, don't you?"

                "Michael, why didn't you tell me you were doing this?" Jeremy asked. He reached towards his friend in an attempt to grab his hand. Before he could touch him, Michael scrambled off the couch, dashing towards the other side of the room. There was a golf-ball sized lump rising in his throat as he tried to suppress his tears.  _Why are you making such a big deal out of this? He was gonna find out sooner or later..._ But Michael had given up on listening to his brain. It felt like the world was collapsing around him- like Jeremy had somehow flipped a switch and caused the entire sky to fall on his head. He was being slowly crushed under its weight; it squeezed the air out of him, rendering him barely able to take a breath. "You probably think I'm a weirdo now," he managed to choke out, even though it felt like his lungs had collapsed. "You probably think I'm just some depressed loser or something!" 

        "Michael, I don't think that at all!" Jeremy replied, quickly rushing over to him. "I would never think that about you..." Michael whirled around, his face bright red, ready to scream at Jeremy. He had no idea why he was so angry with him- all he knew was that Jeremy was the one who had put him in this state, so he deserved to feel horrible for it. Before he could even get a word out, though, he burst into tears. It wasn't just normal crying- rather, they were great wracking sobs that shook his entire body and threatened to tear him open. He covered his face with his hands, barely able to register what Jeremy was saying. It no longer felt like the world had collapsed. It felt like it had simply disappeared... like the entire planet and everyone on it had disappeared except for him, leaving him floating in an empty airless void. 

        Jeremy gasped as Michael sunk to his knees. He quickly dropped down next to him, putting an arm around his shoulders. "Oh my God... Michael, I didn't mean to upset you, I'm sorry..." He hugged Michael, who promptly hid his face in his shoulder, muffling his sobs in Jeremy's shirt. The soft cotton of the shirt pressed up against his nostrils wasn't exactly helping the feeling that his lungs had collapsed on themselves, but Michael couldn't bring himself to remove his face from its fabric prison. Even though Jeremy had been the one who had caused him to end up in this messy, sobbing state, the act of crying his eyes out against his crush's chest was somehow comforting to him. 

        Michael had no idea how long it took him to stop crying, but when he finally managed to hold back the waterworks, he kept his head nuzzled into Jeremy's shirt, inhaling his unique scent that was slightly dulled due to his tears soaking the fabric. It was a strange smell- a combination of pine needles and fabric softener- but it was weirdly comforting to him. He managed to make himself look up at Jeremy, his face feeling slightly damp and hot from being covered with fabric for so long. To his shock, Jeremy's bright blue eyes were beginning to fill up with tears. "I'm sorry!" Michael gasped. "I... I didn't mean to make you upset..."

        "It's fine, Michael. Honestly." Jeremy rubbed his eyes with the heel of his hand, keeping one hand wrapped around Michael's back. "You scared me..."

        "I'm sorry... I just didn't want you to know..." Michael whimpered, looking down at his lap.

        "Michael." Jeremy ran a hand through his friend's messy black hair. "How long have you been doing this?" Michael didn't respond and instead kept his eyes glued to the floor. The brunette sighed before tilting Michael's head up with his hand. "Dude, I want to help you. You've got to tell me."

        "About six months..."

        "Six months? Oh my God..." Jeremy gasped. "Dude..."

        "I know, I know, I know... I should have told you earlier, I get it..." Michael sighed, twisting the hem of Jeremy's shirt around his finger. Jeremy made eye contact with him, barely blinking. "Michael... I don't know why you would do this to yourself... but I'm going to help you. I'm going to do whatever it takes for you to get over this."

        "You don't have to help me, Jeremy," Michael said, not wanting the boy to have to go through any extra trouble at his expense. "I... I could find a therapist, I could talk to my parents about it..."

        "I know you. You're never gonna do that," Jeremy said. "You're too scared to ask for help. But you have to understand that I'm going to help you. I'm not going to go tell everyone about this. We're gonna keep this between us, and w're gonna find a way to get through this." He pressed his forehead into Michael's shoulder. "I promise."

        Michael felt like he was going to start crying again. But rather than from utter despair, these tears were the result of pure happiness.  _He doesn't think you're a weirdo... he's going to help you. He's actually going to help you..._ Smiling to himself, Michael hugged Jeremy, tugging his sleeves over his hands and closing his eyes. "Thank you..." _You've just got to let Jeremy help you. You just have to keep it together until you can deal with this problem. Can you do that?_

         _I sure hope so._


	4. Chapter 4

  Michael had no idea how long the two of them sat on the floor in each other's arms. He knew that he had to get up and actually be productive, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. He hadn't been this close to Jeremy in a while and was actually enjoying it, despite the fact that he thought his heart was going to beat out of his chest from nervousness. He shyly glanced up at Jeremy, who was resting his chin on top of Michael's head. "So... what should we do now?"

        "Well... before we even start trying to do anything, I need to see the rest of your cuts," Jeremy replied. Off of Michael's scared look, he quickly added, "Don't worry, I'm not going to touch them or anything. I just want to see how bad they are, so I know how we should approach this.

        "I know, I just... I don't like people looking at them," Michael said, nervously yanking at the sleeves of his sweatshirt.

        "I get it. If you're not comfortable showing me them just yet, then we can do it when you're ready. But I just want you to know that I don't want to see them just so I can make fun of you. I'm not going to tell anyone else about it, either."

        Michael nodded. "I understand... I don't think I'm ready yet, though."

        "Okay, that's fine. Do you want some food or something?" Jeremy asked. 

        "Sure." The two got up and headed into the kitchen. Once they got there, Michael promptly grabbed a bag of chips and ripped it open. Jeremy raised an eyebrow. "Really? Chips for breakfast?"

        "What?" Michael shrugged. Jeremy was about to respond, but at that moment, his phone buzzed. Pulling it out, he saw that it was a text from Christine. "Hold on, man. It's Christine." He quickly checked to see what it said.

9:00 am  **Christine <3: Aww, it's fine! I was just worried, that's all.**

        "I've got to text her back, sorry." Jeremy shrugged and sat down in a chair before beginning to compose another text to Christine. Michael stood in the corner of the kitchen, eating the chips and watching the brunette text his girlfriend. He didn't exactly hate that Jeremy and Christine were dating, but at the same time, it made him sick to his stomach watching Jeremy text her, giggling when she sent a reply. He and Christine were good friends, but there was a definite degree of awkwardness whenever all three of them were hanging out together. Usually, it would always involve Jeremy and Christine snuggling in a chair while Michael put his headphones on and tried not to glare at them. He hated not being happy about their relationship. Best friends were supposed to be happy with each other if they were in a relationship. But at the same time, he couldn't help but feel jealous. 

        Secretly stewing, Michael sat down cross-legged on the kitchen floor, still looking at Jeremy. For what seemed like hours, he sat there, watching as Jeremy eagerly texted Christine, his eyes glued to the screen. Finally, Jeremy stuffed his phone into his pocket, standing up. "Sorry, man. But I can't just ignore her if she texts me. You know how she is- she gets kind of upset."

        "It's okay," Michael lied, forcing himself to smile. "I get it. I wouldn't want to do anything to ruin your relationship."

        "Thanks, man," Jeremy replied, pushing his bangs out of his face. "Why are you sitting on the floor?"

        "I don't know. I just wanted to." Michael shrugged. Jeremy held out his hand to help him up, but Michael shook his head. "I'm okay here. I just like sitting on the floor." 

        "Okay..." Jeremy sat down next to Michael, crossing his legs. Their knees brushed together momentarily, causing Michael to flinch a little, which thankfully Jeremy didn't notice. He turned his head to the side and stared at the wall, too nervous to look at Jeremy. Then he felt a tap on his shoulder. Turning, he saw that Jeremy looked slightly confused. "You're not upset about this morning, are you?" 

        "Um... a bit." Michael said, tugging at the strings of his sweatshirt. 

        "Oh... you don't have to be upset. We're gonna help you get better." Jeremy smiled. "You..." Suddenly, his voice trailed off. He appeared to be staring at something directly in front of him that only he could see. Michael waved a hand in front of Jeremy's face but couldn't get a response. Starting to get nervous, he gave Jeremy's shoulder a shake. "Jeremy? Are you okay? Hello?" Just as he was about to shake him again, Jeremy slapped his hand on his forehead. "Ow!" He blinked a couple of times, as though he had zoned out. Then he quickly turned to Michael, the fear in his eyes clear. "Get the Mountain Dew. Now."

        "Huh? Why..." Michael realized what was happening. "Oh no... it's not the Squip, is it?"

        "Michael, just get it! Hurry!" Jeremy cried. Scrambling to his feet, Michael quickly dashed towards the basement door, throwing it open and running down the stairs. He hadn't even made it to the second landing before he heard a loud scream and the thud of someone falling on the floor. Panicking, Michael hurried down the stairs, yanking open the door of the mini fridge and grabbing an unopened bottle of Mountain Dew Red. Tucking it under his arm, he hurried up the stairs, not bothering to close the door of the mini-fridge. He managed to run up the stairs without tripping and dashed into the kitchen, where Jeremy was curled up on the floor, hands clasped over his forehead. Dropping to his knees, Michael quickly unscrewed the cap even though his hands were shaking so badly he nearly dropped the bottle. He tried to turn Jeremy onto his back to get the Mountain Dew Red into his mouth. But before he could, Jeremy swung his arm out, hitting Michael and making him drop the opened bottle. Michael quickly grabbed the bottle off the floor before a lot could spill out and reached towards Jeremy again.

        At that moment, Jeremy let out a bloodcurdling screech that sounded like he was being tortured. It felt like someone had multiplied the pain in his head two hundred times. He could hear the Squip muttering something, and he desperately tried to tune it out. Cracking his eyes open, he tried to reach towards Michael's quickly fading image. But before he could touch him, his vision turned to grey static, and the blue outline of a person slowly began to form in front of him, standing out against the grey landscape that now surrounded him. Within seconds, the familiar image of Keanu Reeves appeared in front of him. However, Jeremy would have preferred the actual Keanu Reeves instead of the impostor.

        The Squip laughed in his familiar voice, crossing his arms and leaning over him. "You honestly thought you could get rid of me? I said I would always be here, Jeremy, and you didn't believe me." Jeremy desperately tried to back away from him, but the Squip knew what he was doing. He stuck out his foot and kicked him hard in the chest. Even though he was just a supercomputer in the form of a pill, the blow squished all the air out of his lungs and knocked him onto his back. Before he could sit up and catch his breath, the Squip put his foot on Jeremy's throat, squishing his windpipe and rendering him unable to take a breath. Struggling to fill his already aching lungs, Jeremy grabbed at the Squip's ankle, trying to remove the unyielding foot, air unable to find its way into his mouth.

       "Oh, don't worry. I'm not going to kill you," the Squip smirked, looking down at the struggling, gasping boy beneath him. "I just want to make you know what happens if you forget about me." He pressed down harder, laughing a bit as Jeremy continued to desperately try to get air, his face beginning to turn red. "You know, if you had just let me finish the first time, we wouldn't be in this situation. All you have to do is drink regular Mountain Dew, and I'll be here to stay. I won't hurt you, I'll simply try to finish what I started- improving your life and making you the best person you could possibly be. I don't know why you're so against it." Jeremy couldn't respond- there were colored flashes dancing across his vision, and he was becoming too weak to struggle. He continued to gasp like a fish out of water, his lungs screaming for air. Just as his vision was beginning to narrow, there was a loud splash, and he felt something wet dripping into his mouth. The Squip and the grey background slowly faded away. The pressure on his throat was released, and Jeremy took a thankful breath, only to nearly choke on a mouthful of what he realized was Mountain Dew Red.

        Licking the cherry-flavored soda off his lips, Jeremy realized he was lying on his back in Michael's kitchen. He saw a bottle of Mountain Dew Red in the corner of his eye and quickly rolled over to grab it. When he did so, he saw that Michael was kneeling near him, looking absolutely terrified. "Jeremy! Are you okay?" Jeremy couldn't bring himself to respond and just shook his head, grabbing for the Mountain Dew while inhaling the precious air that his lungs had been deprived of. Michael quickly helped Jeremy sit up before handing him the bottle, which was already half-empty. Eagerly grabbing the bottle, Jeremy chugged the remainder of it. When he had drained the bottle, Jeremy dropped it on the floor and raised a hand to his neck. There weren't any marks there from his near-suffocation, but it had seemed so real to him. He could practically still feel the Squip's foot pressing on his throat.

        "Jeremy!" Michael's voice snapped him out of his reverie. "Jeremy, answer me! What happened?"

        "It was the Squip..." Jeremy whispered, still gently feeling his neck. "It wasn't like last time, though, where it was just his voice. Like, he actually appeared in human form."

        "What?" Michael replied, raising an eyebrow.

        "He looked like Keanu Reeves!"

        "What does Keanu Reeves have to do with anything?" Michael demanded.

        "Look, forget about Keanu Reeves! That's not important!" Jeremy groaned. "He was there, and he was in his human form, and he beat me up!"

          Michael's eyes widened. "What do you mean, he beat you up?"

          "Like... can I use you to demonstrate?" Michael nodded, so Jeremy stood up. "So, he kicked me in the chest, like this..." He gently nudged Michael's chest with his foot. "It obviously wasn't that soft, though. It actually hurt. Then he put his foot on my neck." He pushed Michael down onto his back, then moved his foot so that it was about an inch above Michael's neck, making sure not to lower it and hurt him. 

           "And he was choking you?" Michael asked, his voice full of concern as Jeremy removed his foot. "Are you sure you weren't imagining it?"

          "Michael, I wasn't imagining it! I actually couldn't breathe!" Jeremy sat back down on the floor, tucking his knees up to his chin. "And then I woke up... well, if you could call it that."

        "Dude, this is bad! We need to do something about it!" Michael said.

        "I know we do! But I don't know  _what_  to do!" Jeremy wailed, lowering his head. "I don't know what to do... I thought he was gone..."

        Michael bit his lip, then tentatively put his hand on Jeremy's shoulder. Jeremy made a small whining noise and attempted to shake Michael's hand off, but Michael kept it there, rubbing his hand up and down Jeremy's back in what he hoped was a calming gesture. "Hey, don't worry. We're gonna figure out what's happening, and we're gonna deal with it. We're gonna make sure that stupid floppy disk never gets back into your head."

         Jeremy sniffed. "B-but I'm the one who's supposed to be helping you!"

        "Well, we can help each other," Michael said. "We both have issues that we need help with. If we each help each other, we can deal with it together." He gave Jeremy a one-armed hug. "Does that sound good?"

          Jeremy looked up at him. "I... I guess so." He stretched his legs out and smiled a bit. "Yeah. We can do that..." He giggled a little bit. "Thanks, Michael." He returned the hug, putting his head on Michael's shoulder. Michael smiled, twisting a lock of Jeremy' hair around his finger.  _Don't worry,_  he thought.  _We might both have issues, but we're gonna get through them._

_Hopefully._  
  



	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning, this chapter contains a tiny bit of smut in the beginning. Just thought I'd let you know... *nyoooms away*

[Three Days Later]

         _"Aagh! Michael..." Jeremy gasps, throwing his head back, his hair stuck to his forehead with with sweat. He tries and fails to keep quiet, his breath coming out in little gasps._

_"Hmm, you like that?" Michael murmurs. "You look so hot right now..."_

_Jeremy lets out a loud moan, bucking his hips upward. "Please... I'm so close..."_

        The loud beep of Michael's alarm promptly awoke him. Groaning, he flung an arm across his face.  _No, no, no... you did not just have that dream about Jeremy._ But there was no denying it- the pink flush already spreading across his face and the slight bulge in his boxers served as testimony for this. Most people would have been perfectly fine with having that kind of dream, but it caused Michael to feel a lump rising in his throat.  _You fucking moron... why on earth would you dream about something like that? Just because you like Jeremy doesn't give you the right to have dreams like that about him!_ He sat up, putting his head in his hands and closing his eyes.

                "Michael! Get your ass out of bed!" his dad hollered from downstairs.

                "Okay, okay!" Michael sighed. He'd forgotten- it was the first day of school after Thanksgiving break. Per usual, the closest thing to a Thanksgiving dinner for Michael that vacation had been half a can of Pringles he'd eaten before Jeremy came over. Jeremy knew that Michael's parents would always go out and leave their son to fend for himself, so he would always visit the day after Thanksgiving to keep him company. Michael smiled a bit at this memory, but the smile quickly vanished when he remembered the dream he had had that night.  _You're sick, you know that? Thinking about Jeremy like that..._  

        Michael knew that it was hard for people to control what they dreamed about, but he still considered himself to blame. Climbing out of bed, he opened his closet door and pulled out the small grey box on the top shelf. He removed one of the dulled blades and examined it in the dull light before tucking it into the crease of his hand and making his way towards the closed bathroom door. Before he could knock on the door, it flew open, and his mom stepped out, clad in a ratty green bathrobe with a lit cigarette clamped between her lips. She simply glared at him before exhaling smoke in his face and drifting aside to allow him in. Coughing, Michael went into the bathroom and closed and locked the door. However, the instant he sat down on the edge of the tub, his mother began pounding on the door. "I forgot my phone in there! Open the door!"

                "I'm having my period," Michael replied dryly. There was a slight pause. Finally, his mother replied, "Take your time." Michael rolled his eyes as his mother's footsteps disappeared.  _Either she doesn't know how boys work, or she just doesn't care._  However, he knew it was the second option. He took the razor blade and put it on the edge of the bathtub as he took off his long-sleeved shirt. Michael then picked up the blade and pressed it against it his lower left arm. He didn't move it and just kept it in place, slowly pushing down. Once he couldn't press it down any more, he pulled the blade quickly across his skin. Even though he had gotten used to the pain over time, he still winced at the first cut. However, he found it strangely fascinating to watch as the blood slowly oozed from the new cut, leaving red trails on his arm like crimson tears. He could practically hear Jeremy's voice yelling at him to stop, that he needed to get better. But that argument invalidated itself as Michael added another cut on his arm. Two cuts quickly became three, then four, then five. The cuts continued to appear as Michael sliced at his arm in a frenzy, his arm practically spurting blood with every new incision. Finally, Michael dropped the blade on the floor, staring in partial shock at his arm, which was practically dyed red from his elbow to his hand.

         _You're getting worse,_  Michael thought.  _It was never this bad._  He covered his mouth with his hand, determined not to cry for the fifth time in a week. He scrambled up and walked over to the sink, letting the cold tap run. He wet his right arm and began rubbing at the blood with a washcloth, but only succeeded in rubbing it farther up his arm. His blood pounding in his ears, he desperately scrubbed harder at his arm and managed to remove some of the dripping red liquid. However, more of the wine-colored substance was oozing from the cuts at a faster pace than he could keep up with. Even though he knew the cuts would eventually dry up like they usually did, it didn't stop him from feeling as though his throat was being glued shut. 

        Taking a shaky breath. Michael began filling the sink with water, still rubbing at his arm with the washcloth, which was formerly white but was now soaked with blood. When the sink was about halfway full, he immersed his arm in the water, watching as the blood slowly turned the clear substance pink. Putting his head on the the cold edge of the sink, he exhaled shakily. He tried not to think about what Jeremy would say if he could see him at that moment.  _"Michael, this is horrible! This isn't healthy, you have to stop!"_ But Michael had no idea how he would be able to stop. He didn't even know if he would be able to.


	6. Chapter 6

        "Psst, Michael!"

        "Michael..."

        "Dude. Answer me..."

        It was in the middle of Algebra, the second- to last class of the day, and Michael had been trying to pay attention to... whatever the hell the lesson was. It was extremely hard for him to concentrate, due to the fact that Jeremy had been poking him in the back with a pencil and whispering his name for the past fifteen minutes. Sighing, Michael finally turned around. "Dude, what is it?" he hissed.

        "Okay, you know how we're gonna have a sub next period?" Jeremy asked.

        "Yes..."

        "Guess who it is?" Jeremy asked, leaning forward. "Mr. Goodman!"

        "Seriously? Isn't he that teacher who just takes a nap in the front of the class and lets the kids do whatever they want?" Michael asked.

        "Yep." Jeremy nodded. "So I was thinking..." He raised an eyebrow, grinning. "...we could, you know..."

        "No, I don't know." Michael replied.

        Jeremy sighed. "We could get out of school early..."

        Michael made a mock gasp of surprise. "Jeremy! You're seriously suggesting that we skip class just to fulfill your need to get high in the McDonald's parking lot?"

        "Dude, that's your need," Jeremy giggled. "So are you in?"

        "Hmm, let me think... yep!" Michael laughed. The two formulated a plan through the rest of Algebra.They would leave their backpacks in their lockers. Then, one of them would ask to use the bathroom, the other would ask to go to the nurse, and the two of them would grab their things, leave through the gym doors, pile into Michael's car and leave. There were pretty much no security cameras in the parking lot, and if they got in trouble- what the heck. Neither of them were willing to miss an opportunity to get out of class. After a few more minutes, the bell rang, and the two made their way towards their final class, which would be  _slightly_  shortened. 

* * *

        "Allright, settle down, everyone," Mr. Goodman said- rather, yawned- as he walked into the classroom. "So, as you can obviously see, I'll be subbing you today." Without any further introduction, he sat down in a swivel chair in the front of the room. "Does anyone have any questions?" Michael's hand shot into the air almost immediately. "Yes?"

        "Um, can I go to the nurse?" Michael asked, trying to look like he was in pain.

        "Yeah, sure." Mr. Goodman waved his hand dismissively. Michael got up, tripping over his shoelace and stumbling a bit. Ignoring the snickers from some of the people in the class, he shot a smile at Jeremy before leaving the room and closing the door. The instant he closed the door, he quickly made his way to his locker, trying not to look like he was up to no good.

        After retrieving his backpack, Michael began to go down the stairs, praying that he wouldn't run into anyone. When he reached the bottom of the stairs, he looked up and down the hallway before making a run for the gym. However, he had only gone about five feet down the hall before he ran into someone walking the other way. The person made a small yelp as a few of their books fell out of their arms. "Sorry!" Michael said. He quickly knelt down to pick up the books. As he did so, the person said, "Michael?" The voice sounded strangely familiar... 

        Looking up, Michael saw that it was Christine. The large blue bow in her hair was slightly lopsided, but otherwise she appeared fine. "Oh, um, hi, Christine! What are you doing here?"

        "I got called to the office," Christine replied. "Don't worry, it's nothing bad. I was just headed back to class now." She bent down and picked up her books. "What are  _you_  doing here?"

        "Oh! I was just..." Michael paused. "...going to the bathroom."

        "With all your books and stuff?" Christine gestured to Michael's overstuffed backpack.

        "Um, no! I meant..." Michael looked down at the ground, trying desperately to think of a good excuse. "I'm actually going to the office! Yeah, I'm leaving early." He grinned before realizing that would look too suspicious and settle for stuffing his hands in his pockets and looking at the gym doors some twenty feet behind Christine.

        Christine raised an eyebrow, and Michael tried to keep a neutral expression, praying that she wouldn't be able to tell what he was doing. Finally, she shrugged. "Okay. See you." She went down the hall away from Michael, and he heaved a sigh of relief. He made his way back down the hallway, keeping an extra close watch for any other people he might run into on accident.

* * *

        Michael sat in front of the doors that led outside from the gym, waiting for Jeremy to show up. It had been fifteen minutes since he had left the classroom, and he still hadn't showed up. He was beginning to get worried- what if a teacher had found out what they were up to? What if he had gotten lost? Or the worst option- what if Jeremy had just decided to stay in class and leave him alone in the gym? The thought terrified Michael, but he managed to convince himself to calm down.  _Jeremy wouldn't do that. He's the one who came up with the idea in the first place- he wouldn't just decide not to._

        Finally, just as Michael was about to text Jeremy, the gym doors flew open. Jeremy ran towards Michael from the other side of the gym and stopped when he reached him, putting his hands on his knees and trying to catch his breath. "Sorry... I ran into a teacher... had to make something up..."

        "Hey, it's fine." Michael shrugged. "I just thought you forgot about me or something..." The instant the words left his mouth, he realized how ridiculous he sounded. "Sorry. That was pretty pathetic..."

        "No, it's okay." Jeremy stood up. "You ready to go?"

        "Hell yeah!" Michael opened the doors, squinting at the sudden sunlight. He eagerly dashed out onto the grass, looking over his shoulder. "Come on, man! Before someone sees us!" He dashed to the parking lot, skidding to a stop when he reached his brown Buick, which according to Jeremy, was "a tin can on wheels." After Jeremy caught up with him, he unlocked the doors and got behind the wheel. Jeremy got into the passenger seat, smiling. "I can't believe we're doing this. We're literally skipping school to get high."

        "Can we get McDonalds too, though?" Michael asked. 

        Jeremy made a fake expression of concern. "I don't know, McDonalds is pretty unhealthy..."

        "Come on, please?" Michael asked, fluttering his eyelashes.

        "I don't know..." Jeremy replied, but Michael could see a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. Michael smirked before leaning over and poking Jeremy's face. Jeremy immediately started laughing, swatting Michael's hand away. "Okay, okay, fine." 

         "Yes! Thanks, man!" Michael grinned, pulling out of the parking lot. Within minutes, they were on the road, the buildings and cars moving by in fast blurs. Jeremy rolled down the window and looked out, the wind blowing his hair around. Michael glanced over at the taller boy at every red light, smiling at the look of excitement on his face. They had cut class a couple of times before, but Jeremy always got hyped up about it for some reason. Laughing to himself a bit, Michael turned his attention back to the road.

* * *

            Finally, after about fifteen minutes on the road, Michael pulled into the parking lot, the car making a loud sputtering noise just before he turned the engine off. He turned to Jeremy. "Okay, what..."

        "Actually..." Jeremy looked down at his lap. "Do you think you could go in by yourself? I'll stay in the car..."

        "What do you mean?" Michael asked. "Is something wrong?"

        "Nothing is wrong, okay?" Jeremy sighed. "Just... I'll be fine in here."

        Michael started to respond, but thought better of it. "Okay... what do you want to eat?"

        "Just whatever you're having," Jeremy replied. 

        "Alright... see you in a bit." Michael stepped out of the car and closed the door, walking across the parking lot. Jeremy let out a sigh and leaned back in his seat. He had been trying to ignore a slight headache that he had all day. However, it had just gotten worse, and he knew that it had something to do with the Squip. If the Squip started trying to strangle him again, he would rather deal with it alone in Michael's car than in the middle of McDonalds, surrounded by people who would think he was having a seizure or something.

         _You should probably see if Michael has any Mountain Dew Red in his car, just in case._  Jeremy looked around in the front seat of the car, but couldn't find any. Clambering over the chairs, he made his way to the back seat to see if he had a cooler or something. Luckily, he spotted a cooler in the very back of the car and quickly opened it. However, his stomach sank when he saw that the only things it contained were a brown banana and a couple of half-melted ice cubes. Sighing, Jeremy sank down into one of the back seats, praying that the Squip wouldn't decide to make an entrance before they got to Michael's house. 

        Jeremy's thoughts were soon interrupted by a small  _ding_  from his phone. Picking it up, he saw that it was Christine, who had sent him what appeared to be a very long-winded text. Confused, Jeremy tapped on the text to see what it said.

1:49 pm:  **Christine <3: Where are you? You're not anywhere in school.**

        Jeremy gulped. He couldn't think of how to reply to Christine's text. She was good at telling when he was lying- too good, in some cases. If he didn't respond, Christine would eventually find out that they cut class, and would probably tell a teacher. But if he did tell her where they were, Christine would  _definitely_ know that they cut class and would  _definitely_  tell a teacher. For what seemed like hours (but in actuality was only thirty seconds), he stared blankly at his phone, debating what to do and trying to ignore his headache, which seemed to be throbbing more and more by the second.

        However, Jeremy was eventually spared the agony of texting Christine as excruciating pain erupted from the center of his skull. Letting out a loud scream, he curled up in a ball, desperately trying to block out the pain. He cracked one eye open, his heart jumping into his throat as the Squip's laughter filled his head. Slowly, his headache subsided- not enough for him to ignore it, but enough for him to look up at the Squip and make a semi-coherent response. "Wh-what the hell do you want?"

        "I've already told you this, Jeremy," the Squip replied. "I'm going to help you improve your life, but only if you let me do everything I need to. And I'm going to do everything I can to remind you what will happen if you try to ignore me."

        "I'm not gonna listen to you!" Jeremy yelled. "You almost ruined my life! I'm never gonna let you take control again!"

        The Squip simply laughed. "You just keep believing that, kid. One way or another, I'm gonna find a way to make you let me in..."

        The pain in his head amplified nearly beyond what Jeremy could tolerate. He pressed his hands to his forehead, on the verge of tears. "Leave me alone!" He was vaguely aware of how pathetic he sounded, but there were more important things to focus on. While the Squip had been taunting him, Michael had flung open the door to the car and was crouched in the backseat next to him, absolutely terrified. He was clearly screaming at him, trying to evoke a response, but Jeremy couldn't respond. "What the hell are you doing? Why can't I answer Michael?"

        "You don't get to answer him until you agree to do what I want you to," the Squip smirked. 

      "You're insane! Let me answer him!" Jeremy wailed, a lump rising in his throat.

        "Let me think- no." The Squip laughed. "Now, according to my calculations, once your fat oaf of a friend realizes the only way to turn me off is to get you Mountain Dew Red, it's gonna take him exactly seventeen minutes and twenty-four seconds to get home, as well as another two minutes to get it into your system. This means we have plenty of time to...  _catch up_  on things."


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for not updating for a while, I had a huge case of writer's block. hope you understand.

Yawning, Michael awoke slowly, adjusting in his chair and nearly falling out of it. The first thing he noticed was that Jeremy was holding his hand. Almost immediately, his heart leapt into his throat. He started panicking even more when he realized Jeremy was wide awake and staring at him. Letting out a small yelp of surprise, Michael yanked his hand away, feeling a pang of guilt when Jeremy's eyes widened with shock. "Sorry... you just startled me, that's all..."

        "It's fine..." Jeremy attempted to reach towards Michael, but simply let his hand drop back onto the bed before it touched him. "Ow..."

        "Are you okay?" Michael asked quietly, rolling down his sweatshirt sleeves.

        Jeremy shook his head. "Feels like I got a ton of bricks dumped on me..." He bit his lip, staring up at the ceiling. "The Squip. It's getting worse..."

        "Shh. Tell me about it later. For now, you need to rest. Do you want me to get you anything?" Michael asked.

        Jeremy shook his head. "No, I'm fine..."

        "You sure?"

        "Yep." Jeremy managed a weak nod.

        "Okay..." Michael bit his bottom lip, looking down. "Do you want me to stay here?"

        "Yes. Michael..." Jeremy reached over and grabbed Michael's sleeve, tugging at the edge of it. "You hurt yourself again..."

        "Yeah..." Michael sighed. He pushed up the sleeve, displaying the cuts for Jeremy. "I'm sorry..."

        "Why did you do it?" Jeremy asked, clearly upset.

        "I... I felt like I was to blame... like if I had gotten you back here quicker, you would somehow get better. The Squip would go away permanently..." Michael sniffed, covering his face with his hands. "I'm sorry, Jeremy. I know you're trying to help me get better, and I know I have to at least make an effort..."

        "No, Michael, I'm sorry." Jeremy intertwined his fingers with Michael's. "You've already done so much to help me with the Squip, and I haven't done a single thing to help you. All because I was lazy and I completely forgot about you. I'm sorry..."

        Michael sighed. "Jer, it wasn't your fault..."

        "Michael. It was my fault. I'm sorry," Jeremy said firmly. Michael started to respond, thought better of it, and stayed quiet, looking down at his shoes. After a few minutes of semi-awkward silence, Michael finally spoke. "You feeling any better?"

        "Kinda. I mean, it doesn't feel like I'm having a hole drilled through my skull anymore," Jeremy shrugged. He managed to sit up partially, pushing his bangs out of his face.

        "Well, you made a joke... I guess that counts as feeling a little better..."

        "Michael, seriously. I'm really, really sorry. You've already been doing so much to help me with the Squip, but I haven't done anything to help you. I was being selfish and completely forgot about you and only cared about myself feeling better-"

        "Jeremy, it's fine, honestly-"

        "No, it's not fine! I love you and I don't want you to feel like this all the time!" Jeremy blurted. A split second later, tears welled in his eyes, and he covered his face with his hands. At the same time, Jeremy's words fully sunk in, and Michael could only stare at him. "Wh-what did you just say?"

        "Oh god... I said that out loud, huh?" Jeremy mumbled, his voice slightly muffled. "I'm such a moron, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to say that..."

        "Did... did you just say that..."

        "N-no! I just slipped up, I didn't mean to say that..."

        "If it was just a slip-up, why are you getting so upset?" Michael demanded.

        Jeremy made a noise that sounded like a cross between a groan and a sob. "It wasn't a slip-up, okay! I really did mean that. All of it. You can kick me out of your house now! In fact, I might as well leave right now! I know you're probably not  gonna want me around anymore-"

        "Jeremy! Calm down!" Michael put his hands on either side of Jeremy's face, forcing him to look up at him. "Stop. I need you to take deep breaths, okay? You're getting yourself worked up." Jeremy took a couple of ragged breaths, gripping the blanket with his fists, listening as Michael kept talking. "Okay, what did you mean? You... you said that you... love me?"

        "Uh-huh." Jeremy nodded. "I... I know that I shouldn't feel like this. I'm already dating Christine, and plus you're my best friend, and I thought you would be angry at me..." He sighed. "I'm sorry..."

        "Jeremy, don't be sorry," Michael whispered. He got onto the bed, tilting Jeremy's face close to his. He had no idea where his new-found confidence had come from, but he was already getting used to it. "You don't know how long I've been waiting to hear you say that."

        Jeremy's eyes widened. "Wait... what?"

        "I love you too, you dork," Michael giggled.

        "You're not joking?" Jeremy exclaimed.

        "Not at all."

        "I..." Jeremy laughed, his face turning pink. "Wow. Um... I didn't think this was what was gonna happen..."

        "Me neither..."

        Jeremy bit his lip. "So... like, are we supposed to kiss now or something?"

        "I guess..." Michael blushed slightly. "I've never done it before, though..."

        "Don't worry, man. It's your first kiss, it's not going to be perfect," Jeremy giggled.        

        "Okay..." Michael took a deep breath, his confidence already making a hasty retreat at the thought of kissing Jeremy. "What do I do with my hands, do I just hold them by my side or what?"

        "Well, either put them on my shoulders or on my waist." 

        "Alright..." Michael tentatively put his hands on Jeremy's shoulders, looking into his crystal-blue eyes. "I'm nervous..." 

        "It's okay." Jeremy smiled at Michael expectantly.

        "W-what do I do now?" Michael asked, starting to panic. "Do I just start leaning in? Do I tilt my head to the side? Do I keep my mouth open or closed? Do I-"

         Jeremy cut Michael off, softly pressing his lips against the shorter boy's. The kiss was gentle and slightly cautious, but the simple action seemingly caused fireworks to erupt through Michal's body. He let his eyes drift closed, pulling Jeremy closer and slipping his arms around his neck. Jeremy gripped Michael's waist to steady him, parting his lips slightly and tilting his head to get a better angle. After a few seconds, the two boys pulled apart, both blushing slightly. Finally, Michael giggled, which caused Jeremy to start laughing quietly as well. 

        "Wow... uh..." Michael smiled, feeling slightly awkward. "That was nice..."

        "Yeah... see? There wasn't anything to worry about." Jeremy planted a kiss on Michael's head. "You did fine..."

        "Thanks..." Michael said. "So... is it too early to say I love you?"

        "Not at all," Jeremy replied. "In fact, it's the perfect time for me to say I love you too."

 


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter is so short! :(

  Michael and Jeremy were in the basement. Normally, this wouldn't be any different from what they would normally do, but things were different now, and in the best way possible. The two sat together in one of the ratty bean bag chairs, with Michael sitting in Jeremy's lap facing him and with Jeremy playing with Michael's hair, a content smile on his face. "Your hair is really soft..."

        "Thanks..." Michael nuzzled his head into Jeremy's shoulder, smiling as well. The two had been in semi-silence for about fifteen minutes, the quiet only being broken by occasional compliments from Jeremy and small giggles from Michael. Eventually, Michael lifted his head again. "This definitely wasn't how I pictured my afternoon going..."

        "Me neither, honestly." Jeremy leaned towards Michael for another kiss. Just before their lips met, there was a loud buzzing noise from Jeremy's pocket. Jeremy pulled his phone out of his pocket and sighed. "Shit... it's my dad. The school probably called...."

        "Oh... that's probably not good..." Michael sighed. "My parents don't give two shits, though..."

        "Hold on a sec..." Jeremy scooped Michael up and deposited him on the other beanbag chair, standing up and holding the phone to his ear. "Hello... oh my God, Dad, chill out." Michael sighed.  _That probably isn't good..._  He crossed his legs and watched Jeremy as he paced around the room, clearly already stressing out. "Dad, look, I'm sorry... can you let me talk?" There was a pause, then- "My car's at school...No, Dad! Michael has nothing to do with it! I was the one who came up with the idea to cut class- can you fucking let me talk?" Soon, Jeremy was silent for a few minutes, biting his lip. Finally, he said in a small voice, "Okay. I'm sorry... I get it. Bye." He hung up, then suddenly chucked his phone across the room. It hit the wall with a loud crack, bouncing onto the carpet.

        "Jeremy, why the hell did you do that?" Michael asked, shocked.

        Jeremy sighed, sitting down on the floor. "Sorry... I'm sorry... I was just frustrated..."

        "It's okay..." Michael walked over, tentatively putting a hand on Jeremy's shoulder. "W-what did your dad say?"

        "He says you've got to drive me to school so I can get my car, and then I have to go right home. I'm grounded for an indefinite amount of time..."

        "Oh... I'm sorry..."

        "No, don't be. I got myself into this mess." Jeremy groaned, standing up. "Can you drive me?"

        "Sure..." 

* * *

        The ride to school was full of awkward silence. Jeremy looked out the window the entire time, clearly stewing, while Michael drove. When they got to school sometime around 3:30, it was already starting to get dark out- it was always like that in the fall. Jeremy's beat-up car was the only one left in the deserted parking lot. Michael pulled up next to Jeremy's car. "Well, here you go..."

        "Thanks... Michael, I'm so sorry for putting you through all of this. I really am."

        "It's fine, Jeremy. Seriously." Michael smiled. "So... see you in school tomorrow?"

        Jeremy managed a shaky laugh. "Yeah." He kissed Michael's forehead. Just as he was about to get out of the car, Michael grabbed his arm. "What is it?"

        "Here." Michael handed Jeremy a bottle of Mountain Dew Red. "Just in case." 

        "Oh, thanks." Jeremy grinned, taking the bottle. 

        "You're welcome..." Michael hugged Jeremy. "Be careful, okay?"

        "Okay, I will." Michael sighed to himself as he watched Jeremy start his car before leaving the lot. 

**A/N: Sorry this chapter is so short. Good news: My friend[Cameron](https://www.quotev.com/minmin4life) is now a coauthor for this story! **


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